Give It A Little Time
by chalantness
Summary: AU. For a brief second, she wonders if he's annoyed by her specifically or if he's just like this with anyone he meets.


**Title: **_Give It A Little Time  
_**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** ~2,700  
**Characters:** Conner/Wendy  
**Summary:** For a brief second, she wonders if he's annoyed by her specifically or if he's just like this with anyone he meets.

**Give It A Little Time**

Getting a job while she's in college was never part of the agreement that she and her parents talked about, and it's the silliest thing ever, really, that it kind of peeves them. She'd imagine all parents _want_ their kids to be making some money while they're at school, since an education is not exactly cheap and neither is paying for rent or gas or like, food and clothes. The thing is, her parents started saving up for her college tuition since her mother found out she was pregnant, which is really sweet, if a little ridiculous, and of course she loves them both to death for always being so worried about her. But that's _why_ she wanted to get a job in the first place: so that they wouldn't have to pay for _everything_.

They don't seem to grasp that concept.

Well, it's not even that. They're not telling her to quit or anything, and they've admitted that they like how considerate and responsible she's being. They just try to slip in a guilt-trip every now and then on the phone about how they saved all this money so she wouldn't have to carry the stress of a job when she should be focused on studying.

She did a bunch of extra-curricular stuff during high school while still being in AP and honors classes. She has a lot of experience managing a busy schedule.

Anyway, she has her phone pressed to her ear, listening to her mother spill all of the latest gossip about their neighbor's best friend or something, when she pushes the button for the crosswalk and tells her mother that she needs to hang up in a minute.

"You have work?"

Her mother's attempting to sound nonchalant, but she's never been good at being subtle, so.

"Mom," Wendy says with a roll of her eyes.

"No, I know," her mother replies. "But, honey, don't you want to be able to hang out with your friends, too? I mean, between school and work—"

"I still make time for them and school even with work, Mom," Wendy insists, trying hard not to sound annoyed. She generally tries not to have an attitude with her parents, because they're her _parents_, after all. "Look, I promise I'll call you back later."

A sigh. "Alright, Wen. Love you."

The light changes as Wendy echoes the words, signaling for her to cross, and she takes a step forward as she's pulling the phone from her ear and glancing at the screen so she can hang up. Except, she's barely two steps forward when a hand grasps her arm just above her elbow, yanking firmly but not too harshly and sending her stumbling backyards a little as a panicked, incoherent cry comes from her left somewhere. There's a rush of air and a blur of color zipping passed her, feeling like it came a little too close to her face for her liking, and she presses a hand over her chest and turns to her right to see a guy on his bike as he's pedaling away.

"Idiot," someone mutters, and she looks over her shoulder and is met with an (insanely) attractive guy with blue eyes behind thinly-framed glasses.

"Excuse me?"

He gives her an almost blank stare. "The guy on the bike," he explains.

"Oh," she says, and then feels incredibly stupid for almost feeling offended by the guy who just _saved_ her. "Well, thanks a bunch! I definitely owe you big time for that."

"Not really," he sort of mutters. For a brief second, she wonders if he's annoyed by her specifically (what, is she too _happy_ for him?) or if he's just like this with anyone he meets, because it'll be hard to make a good impression if the latter's the case.

Then she thinks that it's really none of her business and that she needs to stop taking everything so personally.

"I have to…" she begins, but he cuts her off with an, "Alright," as he lets go of her arm, adjusts the strap of his backpack and starts down the sidewalk, leaving her to stare at his back as he's walking away.

... ...

It's only a few days later when the door chimes and she looks up to find him walking in with a few other people, some of whom she's seen around campus before, and it makes her wonder why she hadn't seen _him_ before the other day. Maybe he doesn't go to their school? He looks about their age, though, so…

He catches her eyes and holds her stare a little longer than you're supposed to stare at strangers, but she doesn't mind, just smiles and welcomes them to the coffeehouse.

He stands to the side a little as his friends order their drinks separately, debating amongst each other each time before actually settling on a drink and accompanying snack, but it's slow right now and no one's in line behind them so she doesn't mind if they take their time. She even chats with the redheaded girl for a bit when it's her turn at the register. Wendy _knows_ she has class with her but can't remember which one right now, though she's pretty sure it's an elective that she doesn't care much for, like psychology or public speaking.

"Hi," she says to the guy once his friends are heading for a table. The redheaded girl—Megan—glances at him with her eyebrows furrowed in confusion but doesn't say anything as she walks away. Wendy wonders, briefly, if that's his girlfriend.

"Hi," he echoes.

"Thank you for the other day, by the way."

"You already thanked me." He's sort of smiling at her, though, obviously in a better mood this time around. She likes his smile. He should do it more often.

"I know, but…" _But I didn't really have anything else to say_. "So, what can I get you?"

He shrugs. "What do you recommend?"

She rings him up for a medium pumpkin spice latte and two apple squares, which she warms in the little oven they have behind the counter and slips into a paper bag with the coffeehouse's logo on it, and he drops his change into the tip jar and thanks her before finally joining his friends again.

It isn't until she's writing down the name for an elderly woman's order on the side of her cup that she realizes she never got to ask for _his_.

... ...

The next time he walks into the coffeehouse (two days later), it's a bit more crowded and she's not at the register, and she doesn't think anything of it when she grabs two cups with the same name—one for a customized soy caramel macchiato and one for a pumpkin spice latte. She just whips up the order and calls out the name once she's finished.

"Hi."

She looks up and sees that it's the same guy. She doesn't mean to smile so widely, but she doesn't catch herself in time.

"Hey," she greets, checking the name on the drinks again. "You're Conner?"

He nods, opens his mouth to say something when another voice calls for him, and Wendy looks with him to see Megan standing off to the side. She _must_ be his girlfriend, then. It's strange to Wendy that she feels a little disappointed at this, even though she kind of figured this was a possibility from the other day.

"Well, better not keep her waiting," Wendy says teasingly as she slips each drink into a cardboard sleeve. He takes them from her hands and she shakes away the random thought that it feels kind of nice, his calloused fingertips brushing against her skin.

... ...

She bumps into him on campus for the first time exactly two weeks after they first met. She's walking across the courtyard on her way to meet up with Karen and Mal at the café behind the humanities building when she sees him jogging down the steps. He's wearing jeans and a black shirt under a brown jacket and she's wondering why she never noticed how broad his shoulders are. He smiles at her when he catches her eyes and she lifts her hand in a wave, slows her pace so that she meets him at the bottom of the steps.

"Mystery solved," she declares. He arches an eyebrow, amused. "I was wondering whether or not you actually went to my school," she explains, adjusting the strap of her tote bag on her shoulder.

"So this is _your_ school?"

"Shut up." He chuckles like he knows she doesn't really mean it. "Are you…"

"A freshman," he supplies. "I play football."

Well, that may explain why she's never seen him before. She hasn't been to a single sporting event, which is the complete opposite of how she was in high school. She used to do cheerleading then, but even now that she isn't obligated to go to games, she should still try and support.

And now she'll know at least one guy on the team.

When she tells him all of this (she's a talkative person, but also, he just feels really easy to say things to), he gives her this _look_ that… "What?"

"Nothing," he says. She tilts her head. "It doesn't surprise me that you were a cheerleader."

"What?"

"You're very… _happy_, I guess." Oh. Well, that wasn't what she'd been expecting. She laughs a little, feeling silly that she once again jumped to the conclusion he was about to offend her. She hopes this isn't going to be a habit. "And your arms," he adds, almost like an afterthought. "You've got… well, I figured you must either be a gymnast or a cheerleader."

"I was kind of both, actually," she admits with a shrug. He raises his eyebrows like he's actually impressed by this. "Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like that before I…" _Before I believe you might actually have a thing for me when you don't, because I'm 90% sure you have a girlfriend already._ Not that she'll actually say this out loud. "Never mind," she says, shaking her head a little. "I've got to get going. It was nice seeing you, though."

She's barely taken a step when he grasps her arm gently, right above her elbow, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she thinks about how he'd saved her.

"Sorry," he sort of blurts out. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"You didn't. Trust me, you didn't," she laughs.

"Good." His hand lingers for a few more seconds before he pulls it away.

"I'll see you around," she tells him and then turns on her heels and starts heading off again, but not without catching a glimpse of him as his eyes flicker over her briefly. It's innocent enough that she can tell he's not being a creep while still very obvious that he's checking her out.

It makes her smile the whole walk to the café.

... ...

She's not working the register when he's at the coffeehouse again, but it's slow right now and so she's just next to Marvin and Conner looks her in the eyes as he orders a pumpkin spice latte and two apple squares. Marvin looks at her like she's insane when she starts laughing, but Conner just grins like that's what he was going for.

... ...

Midterms are happening right now, so wherever you go, there are people carrying cups of coffee from one of the several cafés and coffeehouses on and around campus, including the one she works at, of course. It's kind of hilarious, actually.

She's drinking tea, ironically enough, because coffee has almost no effect on her anymore. She used to steal sips from her mother's mug when she was younger, even though it was a little bitter because her mother liked it with only a little sugar and creamer, and that sort of snowballed into her drinking coffee like water when she was a teen and her parents gave up on trying to limit the amount she drank. She's basically immune to coffee in terms of it giving her more energy or perking her up or something, so she drinks tea instead, because that seems to do the trick. It's probably just a mind over matter thing, but whatever. You do what you have to do to.

Her boss doesn't even mind that she and Marvin have their lecture notes stashed behind the counters since he knows that they'll stop studying right away in order to attend to the customers. It's slow right now, though, so she's got her notebook out beside the register and her highlighter in hand, twirling it absently as she's studying.

She's so focused that the sound of coins being dropped into the tip jar startles her. She almost yelps.

Conner looks amused, to put it lightly, and she's laughing a little as her heart calms down.

"Sorry," he says.

She shakes her head, for whatever reason. Megan's with Conner again, but so are two others—a girl with thick blonde hair in a ponytail and a guy who's still got his shades on even though they're indoors. Wendy finds it weird that there are still so many people her age that she hasn't seen around campus, but it's a pretty big school and all, so it makes sense.

"Don't worry about it. So, the usual?" she asks, already ringing him up. He's been in the coffeehouse a few times now and orders the exact same thing, and they have short chats while she rings him up or makes his order, depending on where behind the counter she happens to be that day.

"Of course," Conner says with a chuckle.

She's smiling, but then notices how Megan looks a little crestfallen and immediately feels bad. Before she can say anything, though, his other friends are giving their orders and Wendy's scribbling them onto cups and totaling everything, thinking that Conner will just correct any assumptions his girlfriend might've made about them later.

... ...

The laundry room in their dorm building is crazy tonight, and really, she's got nothing else to do right now and might as well get the laundry done, so she loads her baskets and detergent into her car and drives to the Laundromat two blocks over. It's like, two quarters more expensive here, but it's almost entirely empty and that's what she was going for.

She pulls out the book she's been trying to finish after she's got two machines going, and she gets through three chapters before she's interrupted by someone saying, "Hi."

She looks up. Conner's in cutoffs and a white tee, and it's not exactly warm out, so she figures that must've been some of the only clean clothes he had left.

"Hey," she greets, sitting up a little straighter. "Fancy meeting you here."

"It's crazy back at the dorms," he says conversationally, or maybe like some sort of explanation, and she just laughs a bit and nods because, yeah, she obviously knows. He sits down so that there's one chair between them, rests his elbows on his knees and glances at the book in her lap. "That any good?"

"Kind of slow," she admits. "But it's still kind of early on, so who knows? It seems like it'll pick up. Besides, it's not like I don't have the time to spare."

"Right."

He meets her eyes and, no, this isn't the first time she's thought that he looks good in glasses. He hasn't worn them every time they've happened to see each other, but she doesn't know him nearly well enough to say that she likes it when he wears them without sounding flirty or something. Mostly because she really does want to flirt with him, but whatever.

That's beside the point.

But then he asks, "Do you want to grab something to eat with me next door?" and her heart does that cliché thing where it skips a beat.

She furrows her eyebrows, though, because… "Don't you have a girlfriend?"

He just stares at her and for a few seconds, she kind of kicks herself for assuming he was asking her out when he probably meant it in an entirely platonic way. But he asks, "Girlfriend?" in this confused voice, obviously not knowing what she's talking about, and… oh.

"_Oh_," she says. "So Megan's not…"

"She's not," he repeats, grinning at her again, and honestly, she knows she probably shouldn't look as excited as she feels, but she could care less right now. "So, do you want to?"

She laughs and closes her book without bothering to save the page.

"I'd love to."


End file.
